Parallel
by honey-locks-and-silver-streaks
Summary: A heated argument in a broken lift leaves Draco and Hermione in a situation they don't know how to fix. When their worlds get flipped upside down, they learn living as someone else can be harder than it looks. Now the only way to make things right is to realise there are two sides to every story. Limits will be pushed. Breaking points will be reached. Nothing will be the same.
1. Take the Stairs, or Draw Your Sword

**Hey Guys! So this is probably the most awesome chapter of life in my opinion. At least the name is anyway. I thought it was pretty creative ;) So I haven't updated in a long time as you might have already picked up on it. I'm actually doing this series of first chapters for multiple stories so you guys can VOTE for which one you like the best. I've been meaning to get all this stuff up for the LONGEST time but whatever. It's up now. All these stories I'm posting is your back to school present from moi. How exciting :)**

**So each of my five first chapter instalments (I think there are five) I've noticed are sort of loosly based on themes a lot of Dramione stories have. This is basically something I came up with like right now so it wasn't planned before but I find it kind of cool that some of them match other large, reoccuring plot themes.**

**Capella- **would be like a parenting course if you guys liked to think of it like that. I don't but whatever floats your boat. You know you've read Dramione stories where during their eighth/seventh year they are required to take a parenting course and are paired up with other students and basically everyone falls in love ya dah ya da ya dah ;) Well if you wanted you could look at Capella with that kind of spin on it. But of course, much less over done. And its not your typical story. ( I like to think its not anyway)

**Parallel- **I.e. this one! (Well I shouldn't tell you right now. Spoiler alerts! Alright next chapter if you guys VOTE FOR THIS STORY I will tell you what parallels I've drawn between this one and a reoccurring plot theme XD ) What common plot line do you read about that you think this might be? If you guess correctly, (whether on the first chapter, or the twentieth) I'll try and do something really special for you.

**The Bucket List- **Okay this one doesn't really have one. It's more of a That would never happen! Story. Makes it all the more fun though right ;) Whats on your bucket list? Let me know, maybe you'll read about it some time in one of its chapters ;)

**Before The Worst- **That's like the time traveling one's! Well no duh that's what it is... but this is my version of those time travelling go back to fix all your silly mistakes stories. And its going to be a lot of fun.

**She's the One- **That's my Veela interpretation as you can tell if you've read the first chapter. I've always kind of been like 'I want to do a Veela story'. I read other's and go... nah I'd have this happen and I'd love to see them do this and all that jazz and finally I was like why don't I just attempt to write my own darn story right! :) Plus you readers that like veelastories need something other than Dramione being in love in 3 chapters.

**Well I'm giving all these a first go. (You may notice Capella and Before the Worst have more than one chapter. That's so you guys see them at the same time. You can read them all then vote and I'll know what to do!)**

**Anyway, without further ado... Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. Only this plot not the characters or any creative animal/spell/magical world object thingy...**

**Here's Chapter One!**

**Nature States: Take the Stairs, or Draw Your Sword**

* * *

This morning when she got ready for the day she didn't know that today was her last day. No she wasn't dying nor did she die, but today was in some way, the last day living her _normal _life. She wasn't aware this morning that when she made herself coffee that it would be last time she took part in the simple, routine act. The last time she would open her faded oak cupboards looking for her jar of coffee beans. The last time she heard the clinking of glass as she searched for an appropriate mug to fill with her dark coffee.

Nor did she know that when she was asked to run an errand to the ministry that it was her acceptance to do so that would lead to a new life. And she most certainly did not know that it was the moment that she stepped into the Ministry elevator that sealed her fate of a new life. If she had, perhaps she would have taken the stairs.

She remembered her thoughts upon entering the Ministry. A little over a year ago Voldemort was killed and the war was finished. But to this dreary morning nothing had yet to change. And that small fact frustrated her. She'd be lying if she said otherwise. Kingsley was Minister, and he was trying his best to guide the Wizarding population in the best direction to recovery. But success in that objective was a lot to ask from one man. Especially when the people of wizarding London didn't want to change their ways.

_And why would they?_ She thought as she made her way to the elevator. Those who fought for Harry were treated as kings in the eyes of those who fled with their families. And those who fought against Harry were banished to a life worse than death, for the most part. A few of the younger one's had escaped that fate. So things were good in the minds of the everyday citizen. Why fix what isn't broken?

It's hard to influence change on a whole population of people. Especially when _people_ don't change; not in her opinion. She hasn't been proved otherwise. She's seen within others that some would normally call change. She's seen more confidence in Harry and more arrogance in Ron. But that's not change, it's always been there. The only difference is that something has triggered their new found 'change' bringing it to the surface; in a way she supposed that_ could_ be change. But she needed proof in order to be proven wrong.

And she's stubborn. She'd been told so, and she knows that will never change. Stubbornness to her is another word for strong willed. And will is good. Voldemort had done everything in his power to make sure will in general is broken. Lost, taken, and weakened. Will is no longer free and full of prosperity. Will, even if it isn't a strong will, has been damaged and even though free will has been given back it hasn't been restored, it's been shattered taking the light from its meaning.

Maybe these thoughts that coursed through her mind on a daily basis were what put her in a foul mood. Maybe she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe she just wanted things to change, even if she didn't believe in it, and even if for just a handful of people. She wanted to know the lost lives were not just lost, but a sacrifice for a better future for a greater amount of people.

She remembered first walking onto the elevator, assessing its occupants like everyone does before stepping on.

When she'd first stepped on the elevator there were five maybe six people already occupying a place to stand. A quick scan told her she recognized a few faces from her visits to the Ministry but no one she really knew. So she hadn't paid much attention to exactly who those occupants were after that.

Slowly when the elevator ascended making a few stops along the way all the people in the elevator had gotten off at their varying stops. Except the man she hadn't seen earlier lurking in the corner of the elevator.

Now she didn't know how long she'd been standing there, it could have been an hour or five minutes. It was amazing how a normally very patient person can turn into the opposite when graced with the presence of one Draco Malfoy; in her opinion. Of course, she laughed to herself, she had to be a patient person in the beginning what with having to listen to all Harry's half-baked, foolish, suicidal ideas and his irrational, crack pot theories.

And now, alone in a lift with Draco Malfoy she decided not to acknowledge his presence in hopes of preventing one of their explosive verbal duels. She was already in a testy mood. The clicking of the elevator as it rattled along its course kept her mind occupied for a while as she estimated how much longer it would be till she reached Kingsley's office.

She was starting to think about even getting off the next time the lift stopped. Her stop or not, when those doors opened she'd be getting off.

Malfoy had yet to acknowledge her presence as well which made the situation much easier. Her thoughts then began running off in different directions as they usually did when she was given moments to spare. Only a giant lurch brought her awareness back as she was thrown to the back of the elevator, then forward.

Her back made contact with the railing and immediately pain stung the spot like pins and needles were flowing through her blood streams near her spin. Her breath hitches when she tried to straighten her back. Before she was able to right herself the lift lurched forward sending her to the ground with a crash, now her wrist imitated the sensations her lower back was feeling. She sat for a moment on the ground trying to even her breathing to numb some of the pain as her ears rang. She didn't hear another thud or crash meaning Malfoy must not have been thrown to off balance. She also didn't think anything was severely injured. That was good.

Continuing the steady breathes for a moment and soon the ringing from her ears dissolved into the silence that filled the air around her.

Silence. Her head snaps up when she doesn't hear the comforting sounds of a moving lift, That's because, she realises, the lift is no longer moving. They were stuck, between floors. How did a magical lift get stuck? How does something run by magic malfunction? She didn't know. That frustrated her. At least they weren't halfway through a turn, then they'd be at an odd angle. Could a lift even stay at that angle without momentum?

She huffed in irritation as she pulled herself to her feet. Wincing when more pain shot through her back. It would be bruised tomorrow but nothing severe.

She spared a glance in Malfoy's direction. Being as he was already leaning against the back rail it seemed no harm had come to him as she had thought. In fact he almost seemed asleep resting against the back rail, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed and head resting against the back wall. He seemed nearly calm, which only annoyed her further. How is someone completely unfazed after being thrown around and getting stuck in an elevator?

Well technically only she got thrown around she chided in her head. But the point is still there.

Minutes of silence passed, neither spoke, and that thought was now long gone. She didn't know how long they had been there since she'd first stepped onto the Ministry's lift. She guessed a little over half an hour. And ever since the lift lurched to an unexpected halt a melodic almost but distinguishably mechanical voice came on every five or so minutes repeating the same line:_ On behalf of the Ministry of Magic we apologize for any inconveniences this may have caused you. We can assure you we are working quickly in order to fix the problem and we wish to have you on your way shortly. Our apologies, have a nice day._

She sighed from boredom _and_ frustration. She was late for work, she was bored, and tapping her foot was no longer as amusing as it had been fifteen minutes ago. Yet she was also rather impressed, thirty or so minutes with Draco Malfoy in a confined space and not one argument. That was probably a record, and it almost made her reconsider her theory about change. Almost.

Now all of what was left of her good mood from this morning had up and left.

Another huff of frustration. She knew this morning that today would be a difficult day.

"Huffing isn't going to solve anything." His voice was groggy and deep indicating maybe he had been asleep. Yet his tone was not amused and slightly annoyed, suggesting he'd heard a fair amount of her foot taping and frustration huffing. She decided on a glare in the blonde man's direction hoping that since he couldn't _see _the actin he could at least _feel _the intensity of her glare.

She also took that moment to study him. He had filled out slightly since their sixth year, but that was to be expected when the Dark Lord was no longer living in your home. His hair was long enough that the longer strands mingled with his long blonde eyelashes. His features were still as sharp as ever and he looked like he may have had one final growth spurt since the war. But he was slouching instead of standing to his full height, so it was hard to tell. But otherwise, little about his appearance had changed.

She continued ignoring as she tried to figure out a way to occupy herself. She liked to move, she didn't like to stay in one place for long, unless she had a purpose for not moving like researching or reading. Just like her thoughts she liked to be busy.

Mindlessly her feet moved her up to the front of the lift and her hands moved on their own firmly clinging to the lift bars that separated her from she wasn't sure what. She began rattling the flimsy bars for a while. That was something Ron or Harry would do, not something she would do. But she didn't care, she had work. As she rattled the bars she began hoping possibly somehow she could shake the lift back into moving, or maybe annoy anyone working on getting them out to hurry it up just so they didn't have to listen to the rattling of rusty metal bellow. If they could hear her that is, which she doubted.

That is, she was shaking the bars until a sharp voice startled her making her jump and cease her current actions.

"Granger! You are giving me a headache." Turning around she saw he was indeed slowly massaging the sides of his temple as if to dissolve an impending headache.

"My apologies Malfoy but we've been here long enough in my opinion and I for one actually have work that'd I'd like to be getting on with." Her tone full of sarcasm ended with a sneer. She hardly sneered at anyone. But she supposed Malfoy brought out the worst in her.

She knew what she'd just said but she didn't believe it really came from her mouth. When they crossed paths and words were exchanged it was Malfoy who started everything. And now as he stood quietly in the corner she was rounding on him.

And with as little as an antagonizing comment fuelled by two unhappy campers, the verbal brawl began.

"Come again Granger?" His eyes finally opened connecting pools of silver storm clouds with alluring russet irises. It wasn't a question but a dare. He wanted her to repeat it as eager for this fight as she was.

She was accepting that challenge. She pictured herself stepping into a ring of sorts.

"I just don't have time to spare today Malfoy with having to work and all." Surprisingly she didn't mind doing the antagonizing. She tried ignoring him and it ended in extreme and dire boredom for the better half of an hour. This would keep her thoughts busy till things were moving again.

"As do I Granger. What makes me think you have a different opinion?" His gaze never left hers in another daring fashion.

"I just need to get out of this elevator to get my job here done so I can be getting on with my _work_ Malfoy that's all." She crossed her arms, imitating a smirk she'd seen him model on so many occasions. "Because my job involves a lot of actual hard work." She added.

"Do you think mine doesn't?" He too was fuelling the fire. Sharpening the knives.

"I just don't think telling people what to do all day is that difficult. Or important." Her voice was steady but her thoughts were scattered, looking for the next snipe hardly listening to him as he spoke.

Her father told her that once, that when you're always searching for the next thing to say, for your next rebuttal you aren't truly listening. To listen the mind has to be silent, it cannot drift or wander. Her father was right.

"My work is far more difficult than it appears to be Granger. And I can even bet it's more difficult and mentally straining than yours." There was no way that was true. He was too participating in the antagonizing. Polishing his knife, letting the sun shine from it, boasting, goading her into a fight.

Her turn.

"Yes and I'm sure it is Malfoy. Signing off on documents you haven't read and getting by on daddy's money seems very tiring." She faked a yawn, prodding the bear further with her pointy stick. She didn't actually know what Malfoy did in the workforce but she was sure he ran some department here in the Ministry. After all, Malfoys never settle and are second to none.

She realized she actually didn't know all that much about Malfoy in general. She hadn't heard anything of him in the papers after the war; a good thing. The only knowledge she had that he was still around in the wizarding world was her_ few_ encounters with him; also a good thing.

But she did know his father had been locked up in Azkaban for his loyalties. And she knew Malfoy was sensitive of that particular subject judging by the flash in his eyes, of anger or resentment or something else entirely, she didn't know.

A glint shining in his silver eyes like lightning in a storm cloud, right before it strikes. Things would soon be heating up.

Words would be thrown like daggers, neither opponent above hitting below the belt. Comments would be made that would dig deep, and insecurities would be found and brought into the light. Insecurities that somehow only their opponent has ever discovered and touched on; besides themselves. Nerves would be struck and emotions would run high. _Let the games begin_ she thought.

His turn.

"Believe it or not Granger not many people accept money from Death Eaters anymore." He puts emphasis on the title so many have given him. He opened his mouth again, ready to finish his thought. "I hear it's bad for the reputation." Without the sneer it almost sounded like a joke shared between friends. But they weren't friends, and Malfoy was completely serious.

"Besides," He smirked. "I wouldn't think handouts would be any different than prancing around with the title of Saint Potter's best friend."

"I don't prance around Malfoy." She never liked the names and titles Newspapers assorted her with. She bet he didn't either. But at least her titles were flattering. Still they were only over glorified titles.

"You and I Granger, we're painted with the same brush. We have titles and reputations and people judge us by them. Some good, some bad, but the treatment I might have gotten years ago in the prestigious pureblood world is no different than any special treatment you get today for being Potter's brain." They weren't the same. And it offended her slightly that he might think in that they were in anyway the slightest similar.

"I think maybe you've hit your head recently Malfoy. We are not similar. We are not on the same level, we aren't even in the same _category._ You don't know the meaning of hard and honest work, and you never _have._" She could imagine herself selecting her weapons, the sharp but small ones, underestimated but they'll stick deep in her opponent.

"Care to explain Granger." It was an odd ritual they participated in she knew, one where they threw nasty words meant to inflict the most amount of damage possible each time they met. Where their main goal was to verbally rip each other apart, to see who could push the limits the farthest. It was cruel almost, to try and see who would break first by tearing the other to shreds. So far, each encounter, they always came head to head, stood toe to toe.

As much as she didn't like it, she would admit in that way alone they were equals. Equals participating in their age old ritual as they sharpened their tones and filled their words with proper poisons.

"You got to where you are by flaunting daddy's money. But that's the kind way of saying it. I've heard numerous versions of how you got to the top. You'd be surprised, or maybe you wouldn't, but apparently your favoured method is by adding more notches to your bed post." His fists clench by his side. No one likes rumours, especially someone who cradles their pride with everything they have. Like Malfoy.

"Even in Hogwarts you had cronies doing your dirty work, and all those Pansy speculations." She wanted to continue, but Malfoy had something to say.

"Why use money when you can get it done for free?" His statement was filled with bitterness. "Besides Granger, I think you and I both know those rumours were spilled by slags wishing they had a night with me." His smirk spoke of pride, the shiver that passed through his body spoke of something else entirely.

"I can see you haven't changed." She watched his jaw lock in place as he leisurely stood to his full height, a fierce glint in his eyes; showing no signs of his earlier relaxed façade he'd had in place moments before. Like a cat stretching before it pounces, or a snake uncoiling itself to hiss at full height.

"That's very wrong of you Granger to think I haven't changed." He stepped forward. In her mind, he enters the ring.

"Have you?" Her tone suggests it isn't a question but an opportunity for him to try and defend himself. To add fuel to the flames. "People don't change." She takes his opportunity away as fast as she's given it. She likes to think she's already cast away his sword and was stepping back to allow him to pull his dagger, before she cast that away as well. But that wasn't the case. Malfoy wasn't slow and he wasn't dull. And he'd only just stepped into the ring.

"I like to think so." Another step. He's still challenging her. His sword still resting in its scabbard. Ready for her first attack, undefended. He's cocky.

"Then that's where _you're_ wrong Malfoy." She refused to step back. She had the advantage and she wouldn't cower in fear. Instead she braced herself. Though she'd admit she could be arrogant, she wasn't stupid. She could see herself drawing her sword from its sheath. Ready to attack or defend as it glints in front of her.

"Is that so?" A half step closer. "Why is that Granger?" Now they are circling. Waiting for the first attack.

"It isn't in our nature to change Malfoy. We grow into who we are, when we're done growing we are set in stone. New characteristics may seem to develop, new attitudes may seem to be evidence of change but something triggers it all to bring what always has been there to the surface." She's reciting her belief in change. She likes to believe people change, she used to believe people changed. But now she was more realistic, more idealistic and unfortunately less optimistic in the human capabilities. "What's always been there Malfoy, is not in any means _change._"

His move. But he doesn't take it. He's cocky. He looks like he could back down, like he could shut up and turn away, but he won't. She knows he won't. He cradles his pride. He sees the advantage in attacking second, waiting for them to dive in attack then dodging to the side and placing an elbow to the ribs.

She's been on that side, the side that attacks second. She's suffered from a failure in that tactic, she's felt loss because of that tactic. That tactic doesn't work. When they lean into place an elbow in your ribs, you know it's coming. You jump back, pulling your sword with you, scrapping their shoulder. Drawing blood. Attacking second doesn't work. But she didn't have the intention to hurt anyone severely back then. He has a different mindset. Maybe only then will the tactic succeed.

However she believes in taking the advantage of attacking first, putting up the walls before the enemy can break through. Protection, his loss is her gain.

"You know what I see when I look at you Malfoy?" He was taller than she was, inches taller. He'd grown since seventh year, she'd been right. He was taller so technically speaking _he_ should hold the advantage, nature says he should. He's stronger than her no doubt, but this isn't a physical battle. A verbal one levels the playing field. Because Malfoy's all about being fair. _Neither opponent above hitting below the belt._ That's how she levels the field for him.

He ignored her question, refusing to answer. A smirk graced his aristocratic features, he looked gallant. Gallant as he gave her a look that dares her to continue but warning her harm would come if she strayed down that path.

Her next little speech is completely unrelated to anything they've addressed so far. She isn't going to dive the way he expects her to. She sees herself distracting him, blinding him with the glint on her blade. Then, when he's blinded –by rage or something else caused equally by pain- she'd throw the first attack.

"I see the same little boy you were in Hogwarts. An arrogant fool who thinks money and looks can get him any place he wants to go. You're obnoxious and self-centered and condescending. A coward, hiding behind sure fires." She was a hypocrite in more ways than one but it wasn't a new realization. She was a hypocrite, she was stubborn, she too was proud, she had her faults, and she was human. But she didn't rely on sure fires, she worked hard and relied on herself, her wit and her intelligence.

She raises her voice to speak above the robotic female voice speaking above them. "You're the kind of person who's born on third base and thinks they've hit a triple their whole life."

The gloves were thrown, both swords were finally drawn.

His move.

"I'm flattered Granger that you spend the time thinking of ways to describe me." Another step. The gap was closing. "But I too can hit the nail on the head, and play a title only we seem to recognize." Again he recognizes them as similar, and it makes her blood boil. They are not alike. "You're as superficial and judgemental as anyone else. You seek attention then hid behind your books when it's finally found you. Some say you're with Weasel because of the tabloids, and then when you two broke it off a week ago it was because you couldn't handle the pressure. Maybe you liked the added tabloids. Golden Trio? No, ex-Golden Duo."

The swords clash, her anger heightens. He's shooting blind, hitting nerves he hadn't meant to hit. But that was the plan with him. He took the most recent publications and twisted words until they hit a nerve spiking a reaction. She wouldn't give him one.

Their swords clash and he could over power her if he pushed hard enough, nature says.

"You're a know it all who scolds other's then turns around and does the same thing." He continues. Smirking as he speaks, eyes never leaving hers. "You hide behind your books, that's cowardly. You think you're always correct, your opinions, and your views, that's obnoxious... and arrogant. You're righteous personality is antagonizing, people _want_ to challenge you just to shut you up." His words sting, but only because Ron spoke in the same harsh tone with similar words before she called everything off. Only because she's heard similar accusations coated in sugar from her friends.

His sword hit's her arm, where armour doesn't shield her skin. She's distracted for a moment before stepping back, planning the next attack.

"For someone on Potter's side you seem less alive than anyone else." Does he know he's monologuing? She's never heard so many words leave his mouth at one time. "You don't seize the day, you tear other's down. You're a hypocrite and delusional if you think you are treated the same as everyone else. For someone on Potter's side you're an awful lot like me." Again, he's categorized them the same. They are not the same. How many times does she have to repeat it before he understands?

He smirks. But his words didn't raise the reaction he hoped they would. She didn't show any reaction, she hoped her eyes didn't anyway. That was the only thing she couldn't control, but he seemed to have full control over emotions in his eyes, always cold and guarded, maybe the field was tilted in his favour. But he didn't know her. She was more complex than paper said, wasn't everybody? No she was different, and it gave her the advantage. And she wouldn't give him a reaction, unless she intends to.

She sees him staggering, slightly winded from using so much effort to repeatedly slash at her. She smirks. She has the advantage. She is wittier and quicker on her feet.

Her move. And she isn't going to waste it walking in circles with her sword drawn. She's going to find that spot.

"You want to shut me up Malfoy? Prove me wrong. What makes you think you've changed? Or better yet, what is it that made you want to think you've changed? Is it because the world no longer favours people like you?" A glint, she caught something in his eyes. Maybe he can't always control the emotion that displays within his grey irises. But he can banish it quickly, and she can't register what it was in such a short glimpse.

"Life is so easy for you Granger." He ignores her questions. Again. Is she onto something then? "Favoured by all, disliked by few."

Maybe she found it, the gap in his chain-link armour. But she needed time to rule out other possibilities. "Care to elaborate Malfoy?" If he had a point, he better share it while he had enough focus to function.

Their swords clash, she pretends hers is flattering in her grip. Perhaps it's too heavy. She grits her teeth, she'll give him a glimpse of the reaction he wants.

"Your life is easy. Yet as you stepped on the elevator you seemed as if the whole world was against you. It's pathetic if losing Weasley is enough to give you such a mindset." He smirks. He didn't know anything about what happened between Ronald and herself.

This time she didn't have to pretend to clench her fists in anger. They reacted on their own.

"Come again?" He didn't know what he was talking about. Blind shots she reminded herself. She'd find the gap.

Swords were clashing, armour was being scrapped and dented. She'd like to think her swords been cast away by one of Malfoy's hits because she let it go, let the grip falter. But nature states he has the advantage.

"Everything comes easy to you Granger." It would sound like he's complaining, like he's jealous. But he's not. His next words explain so. "Except your looks, you still haven't gotten a handle on that." A smirk, he's taunting her.

Let the taunting begin. Two could play at this game, that's what they were doing after all wasn't it?

"Nothing comes easy to me Malfoy. And you're bloody dense if you think my life is easy." She could do pathetic, she didn't like it, but she'd take a dive to trip him. "Do you remember that war a year ago Malfoy? The one that was supposed to change everything. Well it hasn't! I still get secret looks of disgust from people like you, who look down their nose at others. I still don't belong, whether because I'm muggleborn or because I'm best friends with Harry. I'm above or below, not equal."

"Poor you Granger, toughen up. This is life, it isn't easy. Unless you're Granger." He smirks again. I'm still stalling, still evaluation. So I keep playing my role.

"I lost people in that war Malfoy." Unwelcome thoughts and memories of the war swarmed her vision. She was pretending to be affected by her words. Pretending, but the tears that burned behind her eyes were very much real. "I lost people that I shouldn't have had to lose! More friends and family than I can even count. You stand there telling me to toughen up when you got out of that mess pretty unscathed. Why in Merlin's beard do you think you have it worse than me? " Her voice cracked at the beginning of her speech.

She needed to confirm her suspicion. She sees herself diving low, then slicing his leg. Just to confirm, then she'd hit the chain-link.

"Is it because this is the first time things haven't gone as you've planned? You're bitter because things didn't go your _way_?" Her voice is incredulous. As it should be. She dove, she attacked. Now she slices. "That's pathetic Malfoy." She throws his words back in his face.

"You're prancing Granger." His tone was warning, death vivid in his eyes. Suspicion confirmed. He can't keep the hatred and bitterness from his eyes. A small voice barely audible speaks, _maybe he doesn't have to_ but she pushes it back.

She knows she's bringing on a touchy subject. It could be the end of her as easily as it could be the end of him. It would be the end of him. She could feel it in her fingertips, today one of them got pushed farther than they'd ever been pushed. In one way or another. She could feel it in her fingertips, like tiny needles tingling all the way up the length of her fingernails, today something changes.

Swords met, they clashed and metal sounded. They were engaged in battle again. In the real world she crosses her arms awaiting the next blow. His move.

"Is it that you think Golden Granger shouldn't have to lose people in a war am I correct?" Their swords met, clashing throwing sparks in different directions. "News flash Granger, it's a lot harder being on the losing side."

"You _chose_ that side Malfoy," She meant to continue but he cut in. She'd thought she'd dissuaded his sword, cast it from his grasp but there he stood, blocking her attack with his dagger. Malfoy was not dumb, Malfoy was not slow. And he was not ill prepared; quite the opposite. He was _well_ prepared.

But the war was everyone's chain-link. She knew that now. The place and size of the whole varied, but the war was everyone's chain-link.

"Yes I guess I did choose that side didn't I Granger." His gaze moves from her's to the rusted, flimsy bars behind her. "I chose to fight for the side that forced me to grow up even faster than Potter had to. I fought for the side where when the people I placed my loyalties with and cared for were killed or tortured it was seen as a public service. A side where when someone's father is thrown to the Dementors it's a cause for celebration-"

"It is when he's a Death Eater." Another low blow. Has he dealt any of those yet? He's reintroduced Ron a lot, maybe that's the only nerve he can hit. The only one he can _provoke_. But no low blows from him yet. Her interruption only drags his gaze back to her face. Scanning it as if he can read her like a book. She doesn't think he can.

Other than that, her interruption goes unnoticed and he continues, like it never happened. That's his family and he doesn't even rise to defend them.

"A public service your side calls it. I chose to be on a side where no one offers sympathy or a moment of peace. Imagine that Granger." His eyes relocated to a spot behind her right ear. His next few sentences are barely above a whisper. "A lesson in itself I suppose. We better be more careful about our choices then eh Granger? We better choose wisely." And it scared her more than if he would have yelled. She can handle yelling. She can handle cockiness, arrogance, obnoxiousness, stupidity, idiocy, yelling, screaming, tantrum throwing. She can handle harsh comments and low blows. But she doesn't know how to handle a soft whisper. She's never heard him speak so softly, and she doesn't know what to do.

So another part of her took over. One that she hoped could handle the situation. But was grossly disappointed.

"You chose that side Malfoy, so I'm sorry if we haven't offered our condolences." She doesn't recognize her own voice. It's cold, and detached, void of any humanity. Another voice in her mind told her not to go there. She shouldn't have gone there. It was a low blow. She thinks that voice is her conscience, or a more reasonable part of her brain. She might as well have kicked him while he was down based on the flash of hurt and anger that made its appearance known in his steely gaze.

"Granger you're grasping at straws. You haven't an idea of pain or sacrifice or anything about loss. You have people falling at your feet willing to die for you and you stand here judging others, pitying yourself." He didn't raise his voice, in fact he spoke with such disinterest she might have thought he wasn't angry in the slightest, if it weren't for his clenched fist. "You're feeble Granger. Ridiculous, ludicrous even, you've lost your touch."

She could see them in her head. Breathing heavily covered in dirt and dried blood. Weapons askew all around them, their shields dented and armour useless, staring each other down in a battle of wits.

Her move.

"You don't know anything about me Malfoy!" Anger surged through her, this wasn't going where she wanted it to go. They'd brought up the topic, a topic tabooed amongst her close friends, and the emotional damage it inflicted on her as she remembered her lost loved ones hadn't yet been inflicted on him. She was losing.

She was circling, and Malfoy was right, she was grasping at straws; digging for that one final blow. She'd been sure she found it, and maybe she did but he hadn't confirmed her findings and her attack had only injured herself.

A double edged sword.

He wasn't playing any more. He found the final blow, the one that would rip her to shreds. And it was as simple as not participating, not giving her the satisfaction of tarring him down. She realised he'd been playing her from the start. Maybe he lied and purposely showed her a fake gap in his armour that would bring up bitter memories for her too, or maybe that was his weakness but he was a good enough actor now she couldn't tell.

"As if you could ever name one thing about me!" She stepped forward. She'd win. This wasn't a physical brawl, _she_ had the advantage.

He smirked. She didn't think he would play along any longer, but Malfoy is always full of surprises.

"I know being Gryffindor's Golden Girl Granger is bloody easy." He smirked. He had her caught in the self-sorrow that was what war did to you. She couldn't get it out of her head. She brought it up, it was _his _weakness! And yet he wasn't fazed and her eye twitched. She wasn't wrong, so she was focused on the topic, which only caused more pain.

She couldn't force the images back as she saw them flash before her eyes. She couldn't identify one specifically they were just faces, of people she loved and lost. Faces she feared she would one day forget, that one day she wouldn't remember exactly what they looked like.

"Says the ferret who could buy his way into anything!" She was grasping at straws. Circling around the same subjects with a rusted and dull sword.

She could see them in her head as she lost the battle. Malfoy now blood and dirt free smirking at her as the weight of everything forced her to her knees.

The intercom-like voice sounded from above, she didn't acknowledge it. She stepped forward, now having to tilt her neck back to look into Malfoy's eyes.

"You're a Death Eater Malfoy, nothing more!" She screamed. His eyes darkened, but before he could retaliate, which she was hoping he would, the lift jerked into motion.

She should be glad they were moving again. She should be glad she'd been able to pass the time. She wasn't glad though, because she won the war, but she'd lost the battle.

She stepped back and faced the front, not glancing back at Malfoy as heat burned behind her eyes. She took a silent moment to recompose herself, Malfoy didn't need to know he'd gotten to her.

The lift doors opened as they reached the next destination. Malfoy's floor. She wouldn't be getting off here. That thought was long gone.

As he stepped out he brushed past her knocking her shoulder before muttering a words only for her ears, "Your life is bloody easy Granger, if you want a challenge try living mine." He didn't look back at her as the stepped out into the isle between office desks.

"You couldn't live a day in my life Malfoy, not a damn day!" Her voice was louder than needed, and she was sure the whole floor had heard her last attempt. She'd win the next round. She only hoped her swearing hadn't revealed how unnerved and shaken she was after their duel.

Before the doors of the lift closed she caught a pair of eyes looking directly at her with a smug expression. They were a strange pair of violet eyes that belonged to a woman with matching violet hair. Strange.

She stood in silence thinking the previous events over in her head.

She didn't know how long they'd been standing there in the elevator before the it began moving again, but she did know three things. One, verbal brawls between her and Draco Malfoy were impossible to avoid. Two, she'd win the next time they crossed paths. Three, she should have taken the stairs.

He was practically giving it to her, which made her wonder if he wasn't fighting as hard as he used to. The war was the chain-link in all their armours.

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**So this is a little different than what I've done in the past. It has a sort of Medieval feel to it which I like a lot. The whole story won't be like that, you'll find out in chapter two if you VOTE!**

**I'm really excited about this story actually. I think it's cute and different and I have so many ideas in my head. (they'll probably all vanish the moment I go to write them all down) lols always happens.**

**If you guys have any ideas about what you want to have happen in this story don't be afraid to let me know! PM me, Review for me. Tell me you like it and I'll try my best to continue with it. **

**Finally, I'm thinking about changing my name here on this account. Not sure what too yet, I want it to be kind of mysterious, yet literature like. I wanted to include parts of my Pottermore name into it i.e. silverknight. If you have any ideas on what it should be let me know! **

**Thank you so much for reading my stories and if you've read some of them before then thank you for putting up with me :) And if you review or vote or follow/favourite THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE!**

**Hang in there with me people, love you all lots xoxoxo**

**-Dini**


	2. You've Gone and Done it Now!

**Hello again! I know its been a while since you heard from me, but I've been busy ( I know, excuses excuses) and I'm not actually supposed to be focusing on this story, as Capella was the winner of my first chapter wins all contest. But I really wanted to write more of this story, I'm so in love with it. Not necessarily this chapter as its more an intro and a filler, but I'm so so so excited for chapter 3, you guys have no idea. So you'll have to review to get me to write for you. **

**Anyway, without further ado**

**Chapter 2: You've Gone and Done it Now **

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She'd been walking for quite some time now. She wasn't sure where she was, or how she'd gotten there. She couldn't remember what she was doing last before coming to in a clearing. But she had an inkling that she wasn't here based on her own free will. Something had drawn her here. What that something was, she guessed she'd find out sooner or later.

Normally, based on her surroundings she would assume she was within a forest, in some sort of clearing. Yet based on those surroundings, she knew this was not your everyday forest. Even as a wizard she could feel that something was off.

The trees were unimaginably distinctive. The tree trunks were wide enough that she knew she wouldn't be able to reach her arms around them even if she tried. And the lowest branch any of the surrounding trees sported was at least fifteen feet up. The leaves glowed with a rich texture, of varying colder colours. The more common colour found on these leaves was a mix between deep purple and a sort of navy colour. They reminded her very much of the Rita Skeeter's glistening blue wings when she was conveniently stuck in her animagus form as a beetle. Other trees held dark green colouring or a red glow between rustic and ruby. She was sure she'd even seen one tree with pure white leaves, though that specific tree was long gone. The grass was soft and almost warm -despite the layer of dew that covered them- beneath her feet, tickling between her toes.

This place was like the inside of a child's imagination. She wouldn't be surprised if bed time never existed, and candy grew from the leaves. Which is how she knew she was dreaming. It was the only logical reasoning she'd been able to find since she'd begun walking. No matter how long she walked, the clearing seemed to stretch on for ever. As if keeping her in place until she was needed.

The mist that rested above warm ground should have been damp, but instead it was surprisingly soothing and warm. It felt more like silk than mist as it wrapped around her ankles. Though she couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps it's intent was to take the form of shackles, grasping at her ankles, making whatever possible escape impossible. Looking up she noticed the sky was a red colour, unlike the usual tones of blue it exhibited throughout the long hours of the day. Early dawn she supposed.

There was a muggle saying about a red sky in the morning, though she couldn't remember exactly how it went. She couldn't remember exactly how anything really worked to think of it. Almost as if her mind had been filled with the smoke that swept across the ground, concealing some of her most important thoughts and ideas. But if she could remember the old wives tale, and furthermore believed in such a silly tale, she would recognize the red sky as a warning. Instead, as easily as the thought came, it went. Replaced by another, much less important thought that skirted the edges of her mind.

Off in the distance the lapping of some invisible body of water reached her ears. Other than the soft splash of moving waves, and the hushed rustling of peculiarly coloured forest leaves was silence. Not an eerie silence, that has you begging for a sound other than the ringing of your own ears, but the silence you succumb to when you get lost in your own thoughts, or before you drift off to sleep.

All in all, everything around her reminded her of something straight off of an alien planet. Or a parallel universe.

"Finally." Cheered a voice to her left. The voice was high pitched, and echoed off the trees, making it impossible to know which direction it had come from. Which turned out to be the least of her problems, as after she adequately surveyed the clearing, she found she was still the only one anywhere in sight.

Soft giggling began bouncing off the trees, "Over here silly." The voice called from behind her.

Turning around she found that what she could only picture as the owner to the soprano voice was surprisingly very accurate. A young girl stood -or rather hovered- in front of her. Her feet dangled well over six inches above the mist, but she had no wings or wand to justify her lingering mid-air. Her skin was a faded shade between purple and grey, her eyes, a much darker shade of violet. Her long hair was almost black with streaks of variously toned purples running through it.

"Gosh it would have been _so_ much easier if you had just sat still like that other boy!" Her tone was light and ditzy. Hermione hadn't the slightest clue make of it.

"What other boy?" There was someone else? But her tone betrayed her thoughts and sounded less inquisitive and held more than a hint of knowing. As if she had some vague idea of who that boy _might_ be.

"Oh you know, tall, blonde, super cute! He doesn't smile a lot though, which is such a shame. Because I bet you it would make him look less frail than he usually looks with that pallid skin of his." The way she spoke was so casual. As if she and Hermione had been friends for a long time.

_No._ It couldn't be. That description had only one face coming to her mind. And it couldn't be him. Why _would_ it be him. "Do you know his name?" _Anyone but Malfoy._ She repeated over and over.

"Granger." She almost missed the accustomed condescending tone she was used to due to her monotonous chanting. _Almost. _

She didn't need to turn around to know her fear had just been confirmed. "_Malfoy"_ She spoke as though his name was a bitter taste she wished to rid from her mouth. An equal amount of condescending in her own tone.

Another bubble of laughter broke her attention from the annoyance behind her, bringing her back to their current situation. Why was she dreaming about Malfoy?

"Excuse me, but who are you exactly?" She asked.

"Arelyin. And I'm the guardian of this forest. Or I will be, once I prove my potential" She smiled before flying off to the nearest tree to examine one of its violet leaves.

"And why are we here?" It bothered her that Arelyin seemed to find more interest in a leaf than the two of them standing there.

"I've been watching you, you know." She exclaimed, her attention still on the little leaf.

"_Why?_" Was she going to make her have to pry every answer out of her?

"Do you know what this is?" She held up the leaf she'd been previously examining. Except, it wasn't a leaf anymore. The two of them watched as she left the left hanging in mid-air, as she moved her hands around it. Moulding it like clay, shaping it the way she wants it. All the while Arelyin transformed the leaf into something else, Hermione watched her features. Every time she tried to get a good look at the girl, her features changed slightly, making estimating her age near impossible.

Neither of them said a word when all was said and done. There was no defined object suspended in the air anymore. Instead it was a soft ball of light, emitting a light blue tinge from the center. Not one distinct shape, but instead continuously shifting as if it was a living creature.

"This," Arelyin continued, "is a moment. A significant moment from your life that has been entrapped in this crystal of energy. Would you like to hear it?"

Hermione nodded. It was clear Arelyin's questions wasn't as much a question as it was a statement that it would be wise to agree with.

"_Your life is bloody easy Granger, if you want a challenge try living mine." _Malfoy's voice echoed off the trees. _"You couldn't live a day in my life Malfoy, not a damn day!" _Hermione's voice followed shortly after.

Arelyin allowed their voices to play over a few times before waving her hand over the top of the crystal and turning the sound off.

"Do you know what that sounds like to me?" She asked, hope etched onto her face at the possibility that they might know the answer. To her disappointment neither Hermione nor Draco spoke up again.

"That neither of you know what it's like to be in someone else's position." She sang. "Now, as I mentioned before, one day I will be the guardian of this forest. But to do so, I need to positively alter someone's life by teaching them something they've never been open minded enough to learn. And you two are perfect!"

"Except _I _don't need your help. I'm plenty compassionate." Hermione argued. "The only one who needs help here is Malfoy."

"I certainly do not need any help from anyone, Mudblood." Malfoy sneered.

"I beg to differ Malfoy. It seems to me a Death Eater like you can use all the help he can get."

"Of course you'd think so from up on your high horse. Tell me, is there a crown hidden somewhere in that rats nest you call hair? There must be if you think a low life such as yourself could ever be superior to me." Malfoy stepped forward, intruding on her personal space.

"Enough!" Both Hermione and Malfoy turned their attention back towards Arelyin where they watched as all the youth of a child left her features. Replaced by wise eyes and knowing looks. In a matter of seconds it seemed as though Arelyin had aged ten years, but gained a ten centuries worth of experience.

"You've gone and done it now Granger haven't you." Malfoy sneered from a foot behind her.

"Oh shut up Malfoy! This is all your fault!" She hissed over her shoulder.

"Like always as usual. Silly me to think perfect know it all Granger could ever do anything wrong." Malfoy jeered. She could feel her blood boiling.

"Malfoy I ought to-" Reaching for her wand she found it wasn't where it normally would have been.

"You ought to what? Send Scarhead and Weaselbee after me? Use your body guards to scare off the big bad Death Eather?" Neither of them noticed their company becoming increasingly impatient

"Malfoy-"

"Enough! That is absolutely enough!" Arelyin screamed. "Hermione Jean Granger. Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Listen up, and listen closely. You two are more alike than you would like to believe." An abundance of arguments came to life from where the pair stood, but were quickly silenced with one look from Arelyin.

"And in order to realise how similar you are, amongst other things, until you can learn to work together, you'll be living as each other." Before either one of them could argue Arelyin proceeded to explain.

"Mr. Malfoy, in this life you are not Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune, nor Draco Malfoy of the Slytherin house. Instead you were the son of Jean and Henry Malfoy. You are a muggleborn. You were sorted into Gryffindor during your first year, and you hold the title for the smartest wizard at Hogwarts during your time. You are best mates with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. You are also closely acquainted with Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and Ginny Weasley. During Hogwarts you were top of your class, and head boy as well. During your final year you were on the run with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, collecting Horcruxes and gathering information for the up and coming war, and when the time came you fought alongside the Order of the Phoenix during the battle against Voldemort. " With each word Arelyin spoke, Hermione swore she could see Malfoy's eyes widen a little more in disbelief. Which was quickly replaced with rage due to his remarkably short temper. "As for your current life, that is for you to find out."

The look on Malfoy's face was absolutely priceless. His face was as red as she's ever seen it, veins were popping out of his neck and fore head. It almost looked like smoke was coming out of his ears! Hermione would have laughed at his current unhinged state, if she hadn't been fearfully awaiting what was in store for her.

"Likewise Miss. Granger, you are the sole daughter of Narcissa and Lucius Granger. You are of pureblood heritage, and were sorted into the clever house of Slytherin during your time at Hogwarts. You are very closely acquainted with Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass. During your sixth year you were tasked with the mission to kill Professor Dumbledore and find a way to get your fellow Death Eaters into the Hogwarts castle. You were branded with the dark mark, and fought alongside Voldemort for most of the battle."

Neither her nor Malfoy were impressed with their current situation.

"You can't just do this!" She yelled. It seemed from the mumble of agreement Malfoy had given he was in a current state of shock. Not sure what to do with all this information that needed processing.

"Another thing before you go, this is your life now. Nothing will seem different to your loved ones. They will remember who you are as the person you are in this life, not the one you were in your old world. Consequences will follow if you cannot accept these circumstances. If you refuse to partake in your new life and attempt to revive your old one, which I can assure you is impossible, you will face severe consequences. The first will be a warning. If you simply cannot accept these terms, I suggest you get over yourself quickly. After the warning consequence, I cannot assure you that you will survive long enough to get back to your old life." The weight of these words hadn't hit Hermione just yet.

She could feel something pulling at her. As if someone was calling her away from this dream state she was in.

"I'll contact you soon, to give you more information, and you can reach me using this," She tossed a small silk bag to each of them, "Take a pinch of the powder out, whisper my name, and blow it into the night air, and you will be able to find me. As we have reached the end of our time together tonight, know there is a time limit before this could all become permanent. So I suggest you find a way to work together quickly, before then."

The next thing Hermione knew she was waking up from what she thought was just a bizarre dream.

* * *

**SO! FIRST! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME.**

**SECOND! (I got a little tired writing the end. But this is a filler/introduction chapter, and I'll probably go over it in a bit (Again). I always do, but I'm trying not to because it slows down my updates and then some readers read different things than others and it becomes a whole big mess. Maybe if I get lots of homework done tomorrow I'll be super excited to write the next chapter (I already know what I want to happen, and I'm super excited to write it. When is the question)**

**ALSO! Some of you might be a lot like me and look at the publication date, then the updated date, then the number of chapters in between, and figure out how long it takes a specific author to do a chapter. And lose interest if it takes too long, or not even click the story if update time doesn't suffice (please don't do that) If you are one of those people, I severely apologize. If you are not, please do not go and check that out, and especially not after I've pointed it out to you. If you go check now we will no longer be friends. Easy Peasy Lemon Sqweezy.**

**But I have an explanation. For those of you who are new here, firstly, welcome. Secondly, I did this thing a while back, was it august, maybe. That's a LONG time ago, what?! Anyway, I did this one chapter thing of like 5 or 6 stories that I would eventually love to write. But I posted the first chapter of each story, and had you guys vote on which one you guys wanted to read. The winner was my story Capella (yay for that story! ). Unfortuantely instead of thinking up plots for it I've been wanting to write another chapter for this one. I'm actually so in love with this story you don't even understand. And I've been sooo busy with school (not an excuse, shame on me) that time has just slipped past me. But good news! Exams are coming up, end of June, so then I'm free. To sunbathe and write to my hearts content.**

**But I REALLY wanted to write for this story, (and I have a second chapter up and ready for my other story The Bucket List) (If you want that posted you know what to do ;) Review!) So here's this chapter. For those of you who have already so kindly favourite/followed any of my stories or if I was so lucky myself, I apologise if this update wasn't what you were hoping for. For those of you that may be following or interested in Capella, working on it guys, hang in there with me.**

**I don't know if its like that for any of you guys, but writing comes in waves for me. I'll be so off for a while, and then it'll be like 'Hey! You know what would be great right know?! If you started writing another chapter and it should go JUST LIKE THIS!' and which stories I want to write come in waves as well, so for that guys, you just have to be patient with me.**

**-Love you all so much, thank you to my past, present, and future reviewers, and those of you who follow/favourite various stories. You have NO idea how much seeing these things in my email pop up that say so and so such and suched your story! Makes my day, makes me want to write so badly.**

**-Love you all xoxox Yours truly, Dini!**


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